Polamalu is one of a kind

Steelers' DB says it all comes down to passion.

Steelers' DB says it all comes down to passion.

February 04, 2006|NICHOLAS J. COTSONIKA Detroit Free Press

DETROIT -- Off the field, Troy Polamalu ties his long hair up behind him. He sits quietly with his hands clasped. He's soft-spoken, spiritual, gentle. On the field, Troy Polamalu lets his hair down -- literally, letting it spill out of his helmet and down the back of his jersey, and figuratively, sprinting all over the place, attacking offenses, hitting people. When someone says he sees a contradiction in that, Polamalu smiles. "That's because you view the game, I would think, as a barbaric game, played by barbarians," the Steelers' safety says as he prepares for Super Bowl XL. "To me, it's like poetry in motion." Polamalu patiently explains. "My belief is that if somebody is very barbaric on the football field, to be able to go home and be a father to their children and a husband to their wife, there's something not authentic about it," he says. "Either they're not authentic on the football field or they're not authentic off the field. "To me, you're the same person whether you're working here doing an interview, whether you're at home with your wife. I don't believe in a game face, per se. You're the same person everywhere you go." Polamalu gets this all the time. He smiles. "It is amusing to me," he says. "I think anybody who knows me knows I'm the same person on the field and off the field." What defines Polamalu He's the same person on the field and off the field, all right -- in that he's different. He isn't your typical football player in either sense. He's someone who makes you think. He doesn't talk trash; he talks religion, philosophy, history and politics. He tries to always sign autographs, even though he doesn't really understand the whole autograph thing. He never saw the value in an athlete's signature, even as a kid. He doesn't display memorabilia. "I do have a trophy room," he says. "It's in my attic in boxes." He says his wife, Theodora, knows nothing about football, and he loves her for it. "Just because I don't want to come home to, 'Dang, baby, you got smoked today. What were you thinking on that Cover Two? You let the quarterback look you off like that?' " he says. "It's become easy for me to be able to just walk out of the facility and separate myself from the game. I have a lot more peace of mind. I think that when I come here, I'm a lot more energized and able to really focus on football." Despite the major increase in media attention he has received this season, he says "prestige" doesn't define him. What does? "Me," he says. "Just me." What does that mean? "I take pride in my life -- my wife, my family," he says. "I try my best to not have football define the person that I am." He says he does everything with a passion, from loving his wife to playing football. Defensive coordinator Dick LeBeau raves about Polamalu's work ethic almost as much as he raves about his instincts and talent -- and he really raves about his instincts and talent. Polamalu, 24, made his second straight Pro Bowl this season. "Troy's got that rare ability to play at all levels of the defense -- deep, intermediate, at the line and blitz," LeBeau says. "Those people just don't come along every day." LeBeau gives Polamalu latitude on the field. He establishes parameters for him, requiring Polamalu to be in a certain place at a certain time. How Polamalu gets to that place, at that time, is up to him. Quarterbacks go crazy trying to track him. He'll even move up as if to blitz, turn his back as if retreating to the secondary, then suddenly twirl and come at the QB after all. "He is a monster out there," Seattle linebacker Lofa Tatupu says. "He is somebody you really have to worry about and you have to know where he is at all times. He poses problems for offenses because he disguises it so well. One minute you think he is blitzing, and the next minute he is 30 yards downfield covering a receiver." LeBeau laughs. "I try to stay out of Troy's way a little bit, yeah," he says. "Some guy said to me one time, 'Coach, you mean you don't know where he's going?' I said, 'No, I always know where he's going. I'm never quite sure how he's going to get there.' " Steelers watch his back You never know what to expect from Polamalu. He's funny. This is a guy who holds rock-paper-scissors tournaments in the locker room, who does the old tying-someone's-shoelaces-together trick. He normally doesn't try to go incognito by stuffing his hair in a baseball cap or anything. But at training camp once, he fooled fans by putting a shirt over his head. "It took people a lot longer to realize it was me," he says, smiling. "Troy? Troy?" He hasn't cut his hair in four years. He doesn't know how long he'll let it grow. When someone asks if it's a religious thing, if it has to do with his Samoan heritage, or if it's just his style, he cracks: "It depends. If the league mandates I have to cut my hair, then it'll be a religious thing." He talks about his strong Christian faith. When someone asks when he found God, if he had an epiphany, he blurts: "A burning bush?" His teammates love him for who he is. Against San Diego earlier this season, a Charger pushed Polamalu in the back. "Our defense went crazy," cornerback Ike Taylor says. "You don't mess with none of our players, but especially Troy, because he's one of those people who doesn't cause trouble to anybody." Doesn't cause trouble to anybody? Taylor is talking while wearing a black T-shirt with this on the front in gold: a rendering of Polamalu's face and hair and the words "SAMOAN HEADHUNTER." Contradiction? What do you think?